Par Avion
by Steff
Summary: The residents of Nonnatus House hear news from Patsy in far away Hong Kong


**Summary** : Nonnatus House hears news from Patsy in Hong Kong.

 **Disclaimer** : Call The Midwife belongs to the BBC and others - I am simply borrowing their beautiful characters.

 **Author's note:** So ever since the trailers and spoilers have come out, I've been fretting about how much of Patsy and Delia we'll see together in Series 6. I have a sinking feeling that Patsy will not be around for a lot of it. All those thoughts coalesced into the following fic. I have included Sister Ursula. I don't know if I'm remotely close to her character (but I do think I'm not that far off if I'm honest).

I couldn't help the sad feel to this - I just think we are all going to be missing Patsy for most of the series.

Unbeta'd - sorry for any mistakes.

* * *

Sister Ursula finished saying Grace and then waited for the table's occupants to finish loading their plates for dinner and thus the volume of noise to reduce before making her announcement. "I received a telephone call from Nurse Mount today."

Any residual talking stopped instantly and every pair of eyes turned to the senior nun.

"Patsy? Oh, how is her father?" Trixie asked immediately.

"He remains very poorly. Nurse Mount rang to advise that her absence from Nonnatus House would be longer than anticipated," Sister Ursula informed the others with clinical detachment.

"How much longer?" Delia asked, her voice slightly raspy. Her throat felt like it was constricting and she cursed her emotions for betraying her so obviously.

"Nurse Mount couldn't provide an exact timeframe," Sister Ursula responded, viewing the trainee midwife coldly. "After discussion, we thought it best that she tender her resignation."

"What?" Sister Julienne queried reflexively. She had spoken to Nurse Mount at length about the situation with her father and had been quite prepared to allow Patsy a Sabbatical, advising her that there would always be a place for someone with her skills at Nonnatus.

Her query was echoed by the others and Barbara and Trixie shot incredulous looks at each other.

Delia forced herself to stare steadily at Sister Ursula. She knew that if she caught sight of anyone else, she was likely to fall apart. Aware that she was shaking, she carefully put her cutlery down and folded her hands into her lap, out of view.

Sister Ursula carried on as if there had been no reaction to her previous comment whatsoever. "Nurse Mount agreed that it would be unfair to maintain a vacancy at Nonnatus House while she tended to her father. She also intimated that it would take some time to close his business and other affairs in Hong Kong once the inevitable happens." She took her time to gaze around the table before continuing. "I passed on the House's best wishes and advised that we would hold her belongings in storage for her, until such time as she confirmed where they should be sent."

"Are you saying that she's not coming back at all?" Trixie asked incredulously.

"Not to Nonnatus House, no. I made no enquiry regarding her other intentions," Sister Ursula replied curtly before spearing a morsel of food and eating. Her action indicated that the discussion was finished.

"Did she say anything else?" Barbara asked, ignoring the body language deliberately. "Were there any messages for us?" She requested hopefully. Surely Patsy would have said that she was missing them, or left some parting words.

"She asked me to pass on her regards," Sister Ursula replied after finishing her mouthful of food. The nun didn't feel it necessary to expand on the conversation. The woman had clearly been distraught about her father's condition. There was no need for the other nurses to know she had been barely able to speak. Besides, sentimental goodbyes didn't do anyone any good, and it looked like both Nurse Franklin and Nurse Busby were going to break at any moment. They really needed to toughen up if they were to remain in midwifery for the long haul.

Trixie looked straight at Delia, pained worry clearly etched on her face, but Delia was resolutely staring at her plate. Trixie could see that the Welsh nurse looked stricken, but knew she couldn't say anything right now. Patsy was Trixie's best friend. If she was distraught at her potentially permanent absence, she couldn't even begin to imagine how Delia was feeling, given how close they were.

Delia's mind was reeling. The information Patsy had received concerning her father indicated that he was gravely ill. The midwife wasn't even sure if she would make the journey in time, but she knew she had to try. She needed to make one last attempt at reconciliation. For her own sake, as well as for her mother and sister.

Patsy had promised Delia that she would return home as soon as she could. There would be no reason for her to stay in Hong Kong once her father died, but from the information provided by Sister Ursula, it would seem that there was actually a significant amount of work for Patsy to do while she was there.

Delia determinedly put the brakes on any thoughts regarding Patsy potentially not returning. If Delia was certain of anything in life, it was that Patsy did not break a promise. She waited patiently while the others finished their dinner. She had lost her appetite and made no pretence of eating anything. She was rather grateful that the others seemed to realise that she needed to be alone with her thoughts as no one sought to strike up a conversation with her.

After assisting with the washing up, Delia excused herself politely and retreated to her room. She half expected to collapse onto her bed and sob, but the tears would not come. Everything felt bottled up and trapped inside her.

Instead she pulled open a drawer at her writing desk and located the stationery she had purchased just a few days ago. She unfolded the light blue paper and looked at it critically. It was much thinner than her usual writing paper, but it did not feel fragile. The page was longer than the standard size of paper and it had three flaps, striped in red and blue. Once folded properly, the page would be the same size as a formal envelope and indeed had appropriate markings indicating where the address and the sender's address should be written. At the top, in dark blue, were the words 'Par Avion'.

Delia had often seen airmail letters in the shops when she had been younger, and had harboured romantic thoughts of writing heartfelt missives to be posted to a far off mysterious destination. Those imaginings had never included the crushing feeling of loneliness and isolation she was currently experiencing.

The Welsh woman shook her head, cross with herself for being unable to shake off her black dog mood. She grabbed a newly purchased 'biro' pen. It was said not to leak as much as a fountain pen, and knowing that she only had a limited amount of space, Delia didn't want to waste any of it to a blotchy ink spot.

She smoothed the paper out once again and stared at the blank page. It didn't seem nearly big enough for what she wanted to say; what she wanted to tell Patsy. Perversely, however she didn't even know where to start. This wasn't like writing a normal letter. If she made a mistake, she would simply grab another sheet and start again. With this letter, she would have to cross the error out, wasting valuable space.

Delia pushed the airmail paper to one side and grabbed her notebook, listing the things she wanted to write to Patsy about and then ordering, and re-ordering them for their importance. She then scrapped the order because her first priority was to tell Patsy how much she loved and missed her, but Delia was convinced she would be unable to find the words to describe that.

Absently, Delia reached over and switched the desk lamp on, and a warm yellow hue illuminated the area instantly. She hadn't realised how long she had sat there, or how dark it had got. And yet her letter remained stubbornly blank. The paper mocked her with the absence of ink and Delia felt her eyes prick with tears of frustration. She rubbed them angrily and placed the paper directly in front of her and grabbed her biro again.

Carefully, and in much smaller writing than usual, Delia wrote her first words.

 **Dearest Patsy,**

Delia hesitated again before looking back at her list and making a decision. She slowly began to write about the other nurses and nuns at Nonnatus House, as well as updating Patsy on Shelagh's condition.

She smiled grimly as she wrote. It was easier to start with other people. With other things that had less impact. It provided a rhythm for Delia to get into, and she steadily moved on from news of the others, to news of herself. How she was progressing with her studies, and what she was dealing with. Nothing was particularly exciting or enthralling, but Delia knew that any thread of news and familiarity from home would be welcome to Patsy when she received the letter.

She stalled when she finished her summary and realised that she still hadn't spoken about how she felt.

Delia wasn't sure if it was fair of her to write and tell Patsy just how much she missed her. Was it right that she should pour her heart out in a letter, telling Patsy of how she kept her pyjama top under her pillow? Should she tell her that every so often, she would spray a tiny amount of the perfume Patsy had left behind on it, just to top up the fragrance and give the impression that Patsy had only recently left her bed?

She stared at the blank section, feeling overwhelmed. She had no idea how Patsy had coped when Delia had gone back to Wales. She felt a fraud for feeling grief-stricken. Patsy was not lost to her forever. She knew where she was, and how she felt. But the very fact that she didn't know how long Patsy would be away gnawed at her. She had no countdown. She had no date marked in a secret calendar that she could steadily mark to indicate how soon it would be until they were reunited.

Delia sniffed, and bit down on a sob. She would not cry she told herself determinedly. She wasn't a crier. Her eyes might fill with tears, but she was not going to let them fall. And she would not cry over this _temporary_ separation. She would be strong and patient.

She was startled from her internal monologue by a tap on the door. Delia cleared her throat before answering. "Come in."

Phyllis Crane opened the door, a cup and saucer in hand. "Good evening Nurse Busby. I hope you don't mind, but I thought you could do with a cup of tea."

Delia gave her a weak smile. "That's terribly nice of you, Nurse Crane. Thank you." She stood and took the cup gratefully, sitting back down.

Phyllis hovered in the doorway. "Would you mind if I disturbed you for a few moments?" She asked hesitantly.

Delia nodded. "Of course not. Come in."

Phyllis stepped in and, a little surprisingly, sat down on Delia's bed. "I know this evening wasn't the most ideal night to get news like that. I know Trixie is at her _commitment_ and Barbara is out with Reverend Hereward, but they both talked about cancelling to make sure that you were alright."

"Why wouldn't I be alright?" Delia asked defensively.

Phylllis canted her head to one side. "You've every right to be upset, Nurse Busby. There aren't many that have such a strong bond as you and Nurse Mount. To be separated from that is tough and it hurts."

"I'll be fine," the Welsh woman replied.

"Of that I have no doubt," Nurse Crane agreed. "But it's alright to be upset in the meantime. You don't have to keep everything inside."

"Not according to Sister Ursula," Delia retorted bitterly.

"I can't say I'm a fan of Sister Ursula's methodology," Phyllis commented blandly. "What I can say is that we have feelings for a reason. When we're working, we must control them, as people are relying on us for help and treatment." She paused and looked steadily at the young nurse. "When we're among friends, it behooves us to be honest and let those feelings out." She tutted slightly. "As much as the equilibrium at Nonnatus House is not as it was, please remember that you are surrounded by friends. And by those that care. I may be old and viewed as a little eccentric, but I have a good ear for listening, if you feel the need."

Delia choked back a sob. "I miss her so much," she whispered, before emotion took her voice and she began to cry.

Phyllis swallowed down her own emotion and immediately got up and enveloped Delia in a hug. "That's it kid. Let it out," she whispered as she gently rubbed the brunette's back.

Delia grabbed hold of Phyllis's sleeve and buried her face in her shoulder. It wasn't simply the shock of being told that Patsy would now be gone for a lot longer. It was Patsy's absence that made Delia's heart ache.

The loss of control was only fleeting and Delia sat back, rubbing the tears away furiously even as she looked up at Nurse Crane in embarrassment. "I'm sorry."

Phyllis shook her head and smiled. "Don't apologise for your feelings, Delia. Ever. They make you who you are. Now, I see there's some room left on that page. I suggest you tell a certain person just how much they are missed, and how much you're looking forward to their return. Trust me, it will make you both feel better."

Delia frowned. "Are you sure? I don't want to put any pressure on her."

"I'm sure," Phyllis confirmed. She smiled and squeezed Delia's shoulder encouragingly. "Think of the importance of reading a personal letter, with so many important, vital things detailed that speak directly to your heart. And then think about how much greater the importance is, when that letter is read in a faraway place by someone who is probably feeling quite isolated. When every word is pored over and cherished."

Delia nodded shakily. "Alright. I'll try."

"Just remember that you can send more than one letter too. Once you've written the first one, I think you'll find the next one easier."

"I'm hoping that I won't have to write too many," Delia demurred as she looked down at the paper.

"If you're talking about how long you'll be waiting before Nurse Mount... Patsy returns, then I understand. But if you're talking about what's in your heart, I couldn't imagine ever being able to stop writing frankly," Phyllis replied with a warm smile. "I'll leave you to it. But I will be up for a while yet if I can interest you in a mug of Bournevita when you're done."

Delia nodded. "That would be lovely," she replied politely, realising as she spoke that she absolutely meant it. She looked back down at the rest of the airmail letter and picked up the pen again.

 **'Cariad, let me start what I really want to say to you with the phrase I always use; I love you more than everything...'**


End file.
